


Seven

by Venstar



Series: Meaningless Scars [7]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: SPECTRE Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 19:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15201827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/pseuds/Venstar
Summary: He continued to stare about the room as if the answers to the universe and it’s evil plans could be read the scars marked into the walls.





	Seven

**Author's Note:**

> i'm supposed to write 500 words a day. you get what you get.

Q was tired, very tired. “007.”

Bond looked up from where he was moping in the armchair by the window. One crystal blue eye shone out from where the setting sun came in through the slats covering the window. He didn’t have to say anything.

“I need sleep. You haven’t found anything yet. I need sleep and you need sleep.” Q didn’t approach Bond, he knew better. He shoved the tray room service left them onto the nightstand next to the large bed. Bond glanced away. “Don’t be stubborn. I won’t be any use to you if I don’t get a few minutes and you’ll be almost as useless. You’re a man, not a machine.”

“I’m not giving up,” Bond said. He shifted imperceptibly in the armchair. He continued to stare about the room as if the answers to the universe and it’s evil plans could be read the scars marked into the walls. Maybe it could, Q hadn’t given it a thought that the writing on the walls could actually be in some sort of code. He stared at the walls himself for a few minutes, until he found himself listing to the side, half a sleep. Q huffed a sigh out and rubbed at his eyes.

“I have to lie down,” Q said, staring at the sullen agent in the armchair. “I’m on empty.”

“Then lie down,” Bond gave a smooth reply as he reached for the water glass left from his dinner. Q glanced down at the plate. A very half eaten dinner.

“You should have eaten more,” Q nodded to the leftovers. Bond glared at him, or Q supposed it was a glare. “One of us should have the stamina to carry us through the night,” Q joked. There was silence.

“Go to sleep, Q.”

“I hate you.”

“So you’ve said.” Bond shifted, Q could hear the material move.

Q punched at the pillow on the bed and started at the gun that was tossed onto the bed beside him. “What?”

“If you’re going to bed, take some protection with you. Safety first.”

Q grabbed the gun and waved it at Bond. “I will turn this safety off and you will be the first person I shoot, you wanker. What do you think it’s going to prove, you staying up all night? That you’re the best? That you’re a winner? That you’re the uber spy? Set a booby trap, pay the front desk to alert you the minute someone asks about us, steal some cameras from the local radio shack and let me set up a camera system! Do something other than sit there and mope!” Q jumped off the bed, gun in hand.

Bond merely stared back at his Quartermaster as he threw his temper tantrum. “Set a booby trap? How quaint. I suppose you have the supplies to make one?”

Q screwed his face up and pointed the gun at Bond. “You’re a god damned spy, build one using the hair on your head and the watch on your wrist.” The skin around his eyes tightened as Bond reached for the half filled water glass on the floor by his chair and sipped from it. He jerked in surprise when Bond flung it across the room. It shattered against the wall, breaking into several pieces, water splashing down and moving across the floor. 

Bond leaned forward to watch it’s movement. “Well, well, well.”


End file.
